


We Can't Change History

by MargoWicker



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargoWicker/pseuds/MargoWicker
Summary: The newest addition to the BAU seems to be fitting in just fine, but the job isn't all sunshine and rainbows.What happens when a case brings up something from her past and how will she cope without sacrificing her personal relationships?Warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapterUse the chrome extension if you want to change Y/N to something elseUpdating sporadically because my classes have started
Relationships: Elle Greenaway/Reader, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. New Beginnings

The start of a new job always feels weird.

It leaves me wondering:

Will my new coworkers like me?

Will I fit in?

What if everyone hates me?

I know I'm perfectly qualified, and working for the BAU is such a prestigious opportunity but there are nerves nonetheless.

It was hard to sleep last night. My stomach held a mix of nervousness and excitement and my thoughts wouldn't quiet themselves. But it wasn't for a lack of trying. I cycled through music, ASMR, tv anything to try to get some rest before the big day. Eventually, I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to the terrible sound of my iPhone alarm. I'm pretty sure the default iPhone alarms are what you hear in hell (if it exists).

Sighing, I rolled up onto my side and tapped blindly at my phone screen. I could see the sun was coming through the curtains. Resolving to get up, I heaved the comforter off of me and the cold air hit my skin. I like being cold when I sleep, but it sucks getting out of bed.

Standing up, I stretched and made my way over to my closet on the other side of the room. I had prepicked some outfits the night before like the extreme planner that I am but still stood there a moment pondering my choices. I decided on a fairly neutral blouse and loose trousers combination. I wanted to be comfortable on a day that I knew would be less than.

I then padded out across the hallway to the bathroom for some light makeup and brushing my teeth. I decided to put in some extra effort seeing as it was the first day of a new job and turned on my curling wand. While it was heating, I left to turn on the coffee maker. I hastily threw some loose curls into my hair and put on the rings and necklaces I wear daily, double-checking to make sure the curling iron was unplugged and off.

It would bother me if I didn't.

I gave myself a once over in the mirror:

-my medium brown hair, down and curled,

I used to be self-conscious of how bland it was

-a professional but cute outfit and some black pumps,

I wanted to look businessy but not old

-then a spritz of whisky noir,

my favorite perfume.

I was one of the younger recruits to the bau, only doing shy of two years of regular fieldwork following training at the academy. But that didn't bother me. Satisfied with my appearance, I left to gather my stuff. It was only a 15-minute commute from my apartment to Quantico but I didn't want to be late.

It's a major fear of mine.

I poured some coffee into a travel mug attempting to chug some but not without singing my tongue slightly. I sighed, pausing to smell the coffee. It's always such a comforting smell to me, for some reason I'm sure I could profile out of myself...but I'll spare us both from that.

Grabbing my work bag from the sofa, I put in a prepackaged salad and a granola bar: boring but functional. Walking back to my bedroom, I grabbed my holster and badge off the nightstand. I refilled my mug and took a look at my watch; I needed to get my ass out the door. The commute was short but most of the people living in my building worked at Quantico and the last thing I wanted was to get stuck in a bottleneck in the parking lot.

Double-checking that I locked my door, I walked down the most average-looking apartment hallway to the elevator. Living on the 4th floor, I could take the stairs but I had enough time and the elevator came right when I called it. Standing idly in the elevator, I fidgeted with my keychain.

It held my keys, a small pepper spray, a bottle opener from my favorite hard cider company, all of this on a rainbow lanyard.

Exiting the building, I saw someone who I would later come to recognize as Elle Greenaway also heading to her car. I walked to my car carefully sipping my coffee from my mug. 

It was a sunny day out with a slight breeze that seemed to echo the possibility of new opportunities. It may also have had something to do with me being from California and despising the east coast winter weather.

Settling into my car, I put on a feel-good playlist. I hate driving without music. It just feels so weird and quiet.

The drive was quick, just onto the freeway and suddenly I was pulling into Quantico. The parking lot was filling up quickly as all the 9-5ers were arriving. The parking gods were smiling down on me and I got a spot close to the entrance.

As I approached the front doors, my heart rate quickened. This was far from my first time at Quantico but this was different.

It was the start of something new.

* * *

All I could focus on was steadying my breathing and trying not to pick at my cuticles as I cleared the security check and reached the elevator.  
With each ding, my excitement and nervousness intensified.

Upon reaching the seventh floor, I took a deep breath before exiting the elevator and making my way into the bullpen.  
I paused for a moment situating myself when I spotted Agent Hotchner's office.  
I could feel the gazes of others in the bullpen on me as I, a stranger, made my way to his office.  
I knocked before hearing a deep male voice say,' Come in.'

I stepped into an office with awards and bookshelves lining the wall -- which upon closer inspection were law books.  
The lighting in the office was less harsh than that of the bullpen, tampered by the daylight streaming in from a window.  
He was seated behind a desk and I took a seat opposite him. I noted some family pictures on the desk next to various case files.

I reached out my hand to introduce myself, "Hi, I'm Agent Tato!"

He met me with a formal and firm handshake, "Nice to meet you agent, I'm Agent Hotch. Welcome to the BAU."

Just then, a cute blonde poked her head into the office  
"Hey Hotch- Oh sorry to interrupt"

"Oh, its no trouble"

She then turned to address me, "Hey, I'm Agent Jareau but most people here call me JJ!"

"I'm Gabs, agent Tato, it's nice to meet you JJ." I shook her hand giving her a warm smile.

"Here, I'll introduce you to the rest of the team and give you the rundown."

I was instantly comforted by her presence.  
I gave Agent Hotch a nod of thanks as we exited his office.

"Hey everyone!" her voice echoed out once we were in the bullpen. All heads turned towards us. "I'd like you to meet the newest addition to our team, Agent Tato".

"-Gabs!", I corrected her.

Everyone in the bullpen went around introducing themselves: Emily, Spencer, Derek, and Elle with Rossi poking his head out of his office to say hi.

I found my desk across from Derek.  
As I was putting my stuff down, JJ made it clear we weren't done with the meet and greet.

"Come on, you've gotta meet Garcia!"

Her blonde hair was in a ponytail that swung as she walked, heels clicking on the linoleum tile. She continued to talk as we made our way back out of the bullpen, "We usually get two cases a week but you know this field, it's no 9-5. When we're not in the field we're back here doing more administrative tasks. I'd recommend having a go-bag at your desk so you're always ready to go."

I made a mental note of that as something to do when I got home.

We had reached a door at the end of a hallway that branched out from the elevators. JJ didn't pause before entering. We were barely in the door when Garcia sprung up, "I'm Penelope Garcia! OMG, it's so nice to meet you. I'm so excited to have a new face on the team!"

I couldn't help but smile as I met the tech analyst.  
Her desk was cluttered with colorful items and stuffed animals. JJ had to step out, leaving Garcia and me alone in her office. I stood there for a minute like a fish out of water when a thought popped into my head, "Hey, where can I get my bureau phone and computer from?"

Garcia laughed, "Oh yes of course. Normally someone from IT would do this but I'll take any excuse to get away from work right now. I don't want to look at these old case images anymore. They're giving me the heebie-jeebies", she winced.

Getting all my information and phone set up ended up taking most of the day and the evening rolled around before I knew it.

"Hey Gabs!" came a voice from across the bullpen which I recognized as Emily. "We're gonna grab drinks since we have the evening off, why don't you join us"

I gratefully accepted her offer. I grabbed my things and headed to the elevator with the rest of the team.  
I appreciated Emily's attempt to include me and it was nice knowing I wasn't the only person who was new (ish) to the team.

* * *

We all ended up at a tapas bar that Garcia had insisted on trying. It was a new wannabe-hipster spot that had popped up with the cavernous ceilings and exposed lightbulbs.

Garcia commandeered the food order, "Don't worry I've already looked up the best things to get!"

I ordered a glass of wine and resolved to stick to just that. While everyone on the team seemed nice enough, I was not about to get tipsy or even drunk in front of my new work colleagues. My choice of wine got a nod of approval from Rossi. Seems like growing up next to Napa wine country really paid off.  
Emily, Garcia, and JJ conspired to order a pitcher of sangria that looked like a hangover in a glass.  
Derek, Hotch, and Spencer all got some sort of beer or whiskey I didn't recognize. I've never understood the appeal of brown liquors like that. They taste like smoked dirt. Rossi unsurprisingly to me went for a glass of red table wine. It was something like what my Italian grandfather would drink.  
Elle got a gin and tonic. One of my favorites.

It was a nice opportunity to learn more about everyone. The social lubricant didn't hurt either. It was nice to see who they were outside of work.  
Rossi and I bonded over being Italian. He seems to be the 'dad' of the team. He was thrilled to hear about my interest in cooking and I was invited to the next 'pasta night'.  
Most of the team seemed interested in my growing up in California. It was then that I learned that Reid was from Nevada (we also laughed about pronouncing Nevada correctly). He's crazy smart and I found his tangents interesting and not unlike how my brain worked. It seemed like some of the team didn't appreciate their off-topic nature though.  
Emily and I both speak a lot of the same languages and she's a huge cat lady like me. As they neared the end of the sangria pitcher it was funny to watch her and JJ not-so-subtly flirt.  
According to Elle, this was a normal occurrence.

She whispered, "We're all just waiting for them to actually make it official."

I laughed, "You do know the textbook gay thing to do is hint at something but both people are too scared to make the first move."

"You speak like you know from experience," she prodded.

Normally I wasn't one to come out to coworkers unless it was necessary but based on everyone's reactions to Emily and JJ it seemed safe. The wine was also not helping me keep secrets.

"If you're looking for a label I'm bisexual."

"Oh, me too. You don't have to worry about them," she nodded vaguely to the table, "everyone's open-minded."

The conversation ended there as we were distracted by Hotch saying he had to head out to see Jack. His departure seemed to start the winding down of the evening. Spencer and Rossi headed out soon after. When Emily and JJ said they were going to take an uber, under the pretense of it being cheaper, I also made the move to leave.

"Aw, come on guys the party was just getting started!" exclaimed a very tipsy Garcia.

Derek chuckled, "C'mon baby girl let's get you home."

We closed out our tabs and made our way to the parking lot.  
Elle and I walked to our cars.

"Hey, are you sure you're safe to drive?"

"Yeah, I'm all good. It was just two glasses of wine."

I knew she was asking me as a formality but I appreciated the thought.

"Text when you get home."

I chuckled as I unlocked the driver's side door, "Yeah you too."

I sat there for a minute, contemplating the evening. The custom of after-work drinks in the DMV was not unknown to me but tonight felt different. I still felt a bit like an outsider but I didn't feel estranged or excluded.

I drove home with high hopes for this new opportunity.


	2. Pursuit of a Killer

I woke with a start. Looking anxiously at my phone I noticed I hadn't overslept but I needed to hurry and throw together a go-bag before work. It had (unsurprisingly) slipped my mind after getting home late last night. All I wanted then was a shower and sleep.  
I scurried about turning on the coffee maker and grabbing a small duffel from the top of my closet.  
I threw everything that seemed necessary in it and hurried about the rest of my morning routine.  
Same salad, same granola bar.  
On my way to the car, I heard someone calling my name from across the parking lot. It was Elle. I shouted hey back and gave her a wave.  
What a small world.

I drove with more haste and fewer nerves this time but had to make an effort not to speed when Hayloft came on.  
I didn't want to be a federal agent caught speeding. I turned into the parking lot right on time, grabbing my go bag and regular work bag. I ever-so-gracefully speed-walked walked to the elevator flashing my badge at security.

As I stepped into the elevator I let out a sigh of relief. I'd made it on time.  
I heard my name being called again. Elle was also hurrying towards the elevator asking me to hold the door for her. She thanked me gratefully before we shared a giggle. Happy hours, albeit fun, are not great when you have to work the next day.  
I barely had time to place my bags at my desk when JJ called us to the conference room to be briefed on a new case.  
This was the work I had come to do and it had finally begun.

We all took seats at the round table and opened the files in front of us.  
Garcia began the briefing. There was a homicide in Oregon that had been connected to other previous killings. The BAU was being called in to consult as there were no leads and the time between killings was getting shorter. I flipped through the file as Garcia detailed the places the bodies were found. I was familiar enough with the region and recognized some of the dumpsites in the gruesome crime scene photos. The team agreed it was a serial, with a male unsub. I was able to suggest there was no connection to race or age. All the women were different. It was a small contribution but it was nice to both provide insight and not feel totally out of my league. My background was in international relations, but my law degree ended up being of interest to the FBI and subsequently the BAU. Garcia wrapped up the briefing and we made our cursory conclusions about the case.  
It ended with Hotch prompting, "Wheels up in 30."

I was admittedly excited about the rumored BAU jet. I was no stranger to flying but a jet was something special. It was something some rich kids at my high school had but I'd never been in one.   
We all boarded with our go bags and I watched as everyone took their unassigned assigned seats (you know, the type of seats you had in school whereby midway through the semester you had 'a seat' that no one else would sit in). I stood there for a minute feeling like the odd one out again before noticing an empty spot across from JJ. We settled in for the ride and continued to review the case.  
Hotch, JJ, and Rossi were going to go straight to the police station upon arrival. Emily and Reid were being sent to the ME's office to see the newest victim's body. Elle and I were sent to talk to the family and get any information we could from them.

  
I was glad to be paired with someone I felt like I knew better but I also did not look forward to notifying overly emotional parents. I understood that type of grief would be hard on anyone but it has always made me uncomfortable when people are upset. It's not for a lack of empathy, more that I guard myself against strong emotions which can make my apologies and interrogations seem cold or disingenuous. Elle seemed like she was ready for it so I was comfortable letting her take the lead when it came down to it.  
For the rest of the ride, I spent time listening to music and talking with the rest of the team.


	3. The man who speaks the truth...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of eating disorders (nothing graphic)  
> I tried to write only from experience and made no effort to glamorize mental illness.  
> I'd like to think nothing I include will be worse than what the show itself includes (If anything it'll be less ~intense~ or graphic)

The newest victim was Sara Hampton, and Elle and I were assigned to notify the parents. She was not far from my age when she was killed. I tried to shake that thought from my head. She seemed to have been dumped in a way that indicated some remorse for her death. Seeing if we could get any leads from her family or friends would be helpful in determining if she knew the unsub. That said, I was still dreading the uncomfortable conversation with her parents.   
After a quick drive, we pulled up in front of a suburban house with a wraparound front porch. It looked like something out of a home magazine complete with the porch swing and a manicured front lawn.

Sara's mom welcomed us into their living room. It was welcoming but you could tell they lived comfortably, nice couch, new flatscreen tv, coffee table books. Her parents seemed genuinely upset and shocked by her death. Her mom, Carol took a seat on the couch and motioned to the chairs across from her for us to sit in. Her husband Bill came to sit next to her and took her hand.  
I let Elle take the lead in the interrogation.

We learned she was a good kid throughout school and didn't make any enemies. Her life seemed almost too perfect but her parents didn't seem to offer any reason to believe otherwise.

Wanting to probe further, we asked to look around.

"Can we take a look in her room?" I prompted.

"Of course," Carol smiled tearfully, "The police took a look through but they didn't take anything."

Elle and I excused ourselves and left Bill to comfort Carol on the couch.

Her room at the end of the hall looked very clean and neat, almost with no signs of life even though this was her permanent address. We looked through her desk and anything remotely personal. Everything seemed to paint a perfect upper-middle-class life in suburbia. This appearance was puzzling until I uncovered a small purple notebook under her mattress. It was comprised of numbers and lists. I called Elle over who was still going through Sara's closet.

"Take a look at this."

"What exactly am I looking at?" she asked confused.

"This was a 'diet journal', for lack of a better word. Sara had an eating disorder."

This was the anomaly in her otherwise "perfect" life. Recognizing the implications we quickly made our way back downstairs to her parents.

Elle didn't wait a beat, "Why didn't you tell us that she was suffering from an eating disorder?"

The room was still for a moment. I held out the notebook as proof. Her mother shyed away from it as if she was in denial.

I sighed knowing we'd have to push for more information, "Did she receive treatment anywhere for her illness?"

Carol kept her eyes cast downward. This time her dad spoke up "The Avalon Center."

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Elle asked again trying to hide the suspicion in her voice.

"We just didn't think it was important," Carol responded defensively, "She was a good girl no one would ever have a reason to hurt her."

I mentally rolled my eyes, both at the fact that they had hidden this and also that this was precisely the reason why she may have been chosen as a victim.

We politely thanked Sara's parents and told them to call us if they had any more information.  
As soon as we got back into the car, I hit Garcia's contact on speed dial.

"You've reached the font of all knowledge, how can I help you?"

I could hear the furious clicking of a keyboard in the background.

"Hey, Garcia could you look into the mental illness history and treatment of the victims?"

"I'm on it!"

We arrived back at the station with the mental health backgrounds of the individuals. Briefing the rest of the team, we updated them on the lead we'd gained from Sara's parents. Derek and Rossi had learned from the ME that all the victims had underlying health conditions. The other victims had been dumped and posed with some remorse. Rossi put together they were being posed like the Virgin Mary, adding a religious component to the murders.  
At this point, Garcia called Morgan back with some answers:

"Hello, my fine furry friends! There's a reason why we couldn't find any overlap between the victims. They were all treated for some type of eating disorder but at different facilities and those types of records required my super sleuth knowledge to unseal."

Derek ended the call, "Thanks, Garcia!"

"Why didn't they report the women sooner as missing from the treatment centers?" JJ questioned.

"They were adults. Their treatment was voluntary which also meant they could leave if they wanted," I offered.

Reid piped up, "Hotch, it looks like we have to go into the treatment center to find out more information."

  
Reid and I left the station as everyone was gathering to deliver the profile. I was pumped to have helped find a lead but I dreaded its implications. While the things I'd been through in the past had helped me piece together the lead, I wasn't thrilled about the team knowing about it. After all, I was the newest member of the team. Reid and I drove together to the Avalon Center. I figured he would be able to understand any medical or mental health files better than I could. Reid attempted to make conversation on the way there but my nervousness made my answers curt and surface-level. 

"I take it you're not thrilled to be heading to this type of facility," he offered.

It wouldn't take a profiler to pick up on my discomfort but I appreciated him trying to be tactful.

I forced a laugh, "Haha, um not exactly."

"Please don't tell me it's because you watched too many mental asylum horror movies."

This got a genuine smile from me, "No. No, it's not that."

"You don't have to tell me, but what is it then?"

I gave an obviously bullshit answer of how hospitals make me uncomfortable. We rode in silence for a minute before Reid extended an olive branch.

"You know, I get the discomfort around inpatient facilities. My mother has been in them for a long time...for schizophrenia."

I paused before continuing, "Thanks for feeling comfortable enough to share that with me."

I appreciated what he was doing and that he was trying to connect. I also had the feeling he would understand my apprehension by the end of our visit to Avalon whether I wanted him to or not. Even so, I grew more anxious as we pulled in and walked to reception. I knew it was in my past. I was better now and my fears were irrational but it brought me back to a time I'd rather forget.  
I still was worried I'd get stuck in there.

We greeted the receptionist and informed her of why we were here. Reid went back to look through files they had with one of the doctors. I stayed with the receptionist to check if it was okay if we talked to any of the patients. She said it was an adult facility so we just had to get consent from them, but other than that it was all clear.

I stood between the group room and the reception lobby for a moment. It was like I was too scared to venture in and potentially get trapped. I looked around the room, the grating fluorescent lights casting an unpleasant glow. The air was dry and smelled sterile. There were a few patients reading and playing a card game. I picked at my cuticles as I gauged if there were any willing participants who I could question.

After a moment I spotted a girl who looked not far off from my age who kept glancing up at me from her book. I walked over tentatively.

"Hey, I'm agent y/n from the FBI. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

She didn't seem to back away but I could tell her guard was still up.

"Can I sit?" I asked, motioning to the seat next to her. She nodded.

"So what was your deal?" she asked suddenly.

"I'm sorry?"

She gave a knowing smile, "I could see the anxiety radiating off of you the minute you walked in here."

I was taken aback. I thought as a profiler I hid my emotions well if necessary, but if there was any place where I'd be called out this seemed like the spot.

I took a breath, "I was anorexic but I never got put in a residential facility. It came close, but ya know I came out the other side."

She extended her hand, "I'm Christine, nice to meet you."

"So what are you in here for, if you don't mind me asking?"

"B.E.D." Binge Eating Disorder.

I nodded in acknowledgment, glad I got her to open up.

"Did you know Sara at all?"

"Yeah, actually we got along okay."

"I'm sorry for your loss, really."

She shrugged in acceptance.

"Hey, so who are the cool nurses? Are there any newer ones?" I decided to pursue a different line of questioning.

"There was always a nurse who would give us weird looks but he didn't care if we smoked or talked shit so no one really cared," she went on, "I saw him pay attention to Sara more in the past few weeks though."

This caught my attention. The unsub could have had medical training but definitely had had access to all these women in facilities.

"Look out for each other, OK? I'll leave my number at the front desk if you need to get in contact with me. Thanks so much for your help!"

I scurried off to find Reid and ask for a list of staff from the facility. He and a doctor were in an office off the main hallway looking at what I presumed were Sara's files. They looked up as I came into the room.

"Hey, so I was just talking to a patient who was able to give me a name of a potential nurse who would fit our profile."

The doctor directed us to a list of staff which I took a picture of and sent to Garcia. As we left, I gave the receptionist my business card and told her and the doctor to call us if they saw anything weird happen with patients or nurses.

As soon as we got back to the station, Reid and I briefed the others on our discovery. After our briefing, Hotch pulled me aside.

"How did you get her to open up?" he asked referring to Christine.

"Just connecting the dots, basic interviewing 101 I guess."

He raised his eyebrows doubtfully as I weighed the consequences of elaborating. I felt it was necessary to explain more because it was my first case and I didn't need him questioning my decisions.

I continued, "Leveling the playing field helps, I was able to connect with her by saying I'd had an eating disorder in the past."

"You know you can't lie to people to get answers."

"Who said I was lying."

Before he could respond, we were interrupted by the police chief rushing in. He had been notified that another woman had gone missing. 

"I was just called by Avalon Center, they say a patient of theirs disappeared. Her name is Christine Salgado."

I stood there for a moment, stuck as the dread and realization set in. I talked to her at the center and probably unknowingly put a target on her back. Taking a deep breath, I resolved to get her back no matter what it took.


	4. ...is always at ease

We got the address for the unsub's house as soon as we'd heard Christine had gone missing.  
Derek drove the car I was in, with Elle and Hotch close behind.

He turned the sirens on as we go a call from Garcia. She had found the reason why he hadn't been previously connected to all the murders. He was jumping between facilities after picking victims. 

As we drove, we continued to mull over the new developments that had come to light with the tox screen results.  
The girls had stuff in their stomachs and residue on their faces. It turned out the unsub was feeding them through an ng tube forcefully. This led to respiratory failure and then death, intentionally.  
The "why" was unclear.

My brain kept circling back to the conversation I'd had with Christine. I felt bad that I might have been the one to put the target on her back.  
The worst part about going to apprehend the unsub was the waiting. I knew Morgan was driving as fast as possible but it felt like we were creeping forward.

After what felt like an eternity, we pulled up to a one-story house with an old midsize sedan parked in the driveway. We got out quietly with our guns drawn. Derek and Elle went for the front door. Hotch and I snuck around the back and through the unlocked screen door. 

It creaked open and we paused listening for any indication there was someone inside the house.

After a moment all we heard was Elle and Morgan enter the house from the other end of the hallway.

We cleared the rooms quickly which were in ranging states of disarray. The walls of the living room had a lot of religious artwork and if the books strewn about were any indication, the unsub seemed like a religious man. The house was lived in, but much to mine and everyone else's disappointment there was no sign of Christine.  
Hotch and I went back outside while Elle and Derek continued looking through the house for anything important. As we skirted around the back of the property, we found an entrance to the storm cellar tucked away. Surprisingly, unlocked too.

I took the lead and stepped onto the staircase that lead down into the dark cellar.   
I let out a breath as I put my weight onto the first stair. It seemed like it would hold.  
As I listened I heard muted struggle noised coming from below, from Christine  
I motioned to Hotch and he nodded affirming he'd heard them too.  
He then followed me down into the dimly-lit cellar.

It opened up into several sectioned off areas being used for storage. At the back, there was an area behind plastic sheeting.  
We flanked around both sides of the cellar to get further in without being seen.  
Now closer, we could see the unsub attaching something to Christine who was bound and gagged to a chair. He was attempting to intubate her.   
Before anything worse could happen, Hotch and I emerged from our cover.

"FBI, Hands in the air!"

Thankfully we were in a small enough space where the unsub couldn't resist arrest. 

"We need a medic!" I shouted over comms.

As Hotch cuffed and Mirandized him, I ran over to Christine.  
I quickly removed her restraints and she wrapped her arms around me, collapsing in relief. 

"Thank you! Oh my gosh, he was going to kill me!"

I just kept hugging her.

"Shh shh. It's okay. You're going to be okay now. You are so strong, you know that right?"

As Hotch brought the unsub out of the cellar, I looked around. What I could see without moving from Christine's side reinforced what we'd found in the house. There was dark religious imagery and messages all over the walls. The unsub thought the girls needed to be rid of a "disease" caused by the devil, and as I would later learn he lured these girls under the pretense of continuing care.

It wasn't long before the paramedics and local PD arrived.  
I offered to accompany Christine in the ambulance but she insisted she was fine.  
Her family was also coming in from out of town to meet her at the hospital.  
I gave her my card.

"If you need anything call me. Seriously."

The ambulance drove off and we piled back into the cars to head back to the station. I plopped down into the passenger seat with a sigh. The adrenaline was finally wearing off.

Derek turned to me, "How was that for a first case newbie?"

I laughed. 

"Could've been better, could've been worse."

The ride back to the station went by much faster.

We were packing all of our stuff up at the station when Reid walked over to me. I was in the middle of taking down images from the big whiteboard when he said, 

"Hey, um I just wanted to check-in and see how you were doing."

He kept his voice low. 

I rolled my eyes, "Thanks, Ried but really I'm fine. I don't need to be babied."

I must have come off a bit aggressive because his face tensed. 

"I appreciate the concern though." I reached out to touch his arm and show I was being sincere. He was one of the first people on the team to open up to me and I didn't want to push him away. 

With everything packed up and our help no longer needed we quickly made our way back to the jet before the sun had even begun to set.


	5. Like Tequila Does

The minute the elevator doors opened onto the bullpen, Garcia was there to greet us.

"Hello, my lovelies! I am so glad you all made it back home safely."

As everyone was giving Garcia her "mandatory" hugs, Hotch motioned for me to follow him to his office.  
My stomach dropped.  
This is what I had successfully been trying to avoid since I made that offhand comment to him.  
I followed him to his office and closed the door behind me.  
I didn't need the rest of the team to hear our conversation.

I sat down in the chair opposite him, bracing myself for whatever he was going to say. I was expecting him to tell me I had been rude or out of line for what I had said to him about the interrogation. It was my first case too.   
Instead, he just asked,

"What did you think of your first case on the team?"

I tried my best to mask my surprise at this question.

"It went well I think. Could've been better, could've been worse." 

I gave him the same answer I gave Morgan.

He nodded his head in agreement, "I think you were able to provide some very helpful insights on this case."

I smiled, glad I was able to be of some use and that I wasn't in trouble.

He stood up, indicating I was free to leave.

As I reached the door he said, "You know if there's ever a case that gets too personal for you, you can take some days off no questions asked."

I was wondering if he'd address the elephant in the room.

"Thanks, Hotch. Have a nice evening." I tried to give him a reassuring smile. That was in my past. I'd moved on. 

As I stepped out into the bullpen, Elle called out to me,

"Hey! Y/n you coming? It's happy hour time!"

Time to turn that frown upside down.

"Of course, let's get out of here!"

* * *

The bars we were planning to hit up were central to all of our apartments, so everyone quickly went back to their places to ditch their go bags and freshen up. 

We all made our way out to the parking lot in a good mood, chatting.

I turned to Elle, "You want to come to my place after you get ready? We can uber together that way."

"Absolutely, that would be great! I'll text you when I'm ready."

When I got to my car I just sat a moment. Alone for what seemed like the first time in 24 hours.   
Shaking myself out of my funk, I put on some music.   
I was looking forward to letting loose a bit.

The drive was quick and the sun was setting as I pulled into my apartment complex. I hurried up to my place, tossing my go-bag aside and picking up a bit because I knew Elle would be coming by.

I jumped in the shower and put some loose curls in my hair. I checked the time and then kicked my ass into high gear. After touching up my makeup, I picked out a flowy navy silk tank and paired it with some ripped black jeans and heeled booties. I was putting in some gold earrings when I heard a knock at the door.

"Just a minute!"

I opened the door and Elle was standing there looking stunning. She was wearing an emerald green top and a black miniskirt looking radiant.

"Ohmygosh I love your outfit!" 

I couldn't help but blush, "Come in, come in. I'm still getting my shit together but I'll be out in a minute. Feel free to sit anywhere. Make yourself comfortable!"

I quickly ran back to my bedroom to grab a shoulder bag and spritz myself with some perfume.

When I returned, Elle was perched on the end of the couch looking at her phone.

"You want to take a shot or something before we leave?"

I figured we might as well pregame a bit. Drink prices in the DMV aren't cheap. 

She laughed, "Why not."

"Okay, um tequila or vodka?" I offered.

"Tequila. We're celebrating your first case after all!" 

I walked over to the bar cart and grabbed the tequila and lime. As I poured the shots, she asked,

"What was that about though? You and Hotch?"

"Oh, he just wanted to know what I thought. General debriefing stuff." It wasn't a lie, it just didn't seem necessary to get into the details. 

She took the shot and lime I offered her. 

"Really though, what did you think about the case?"

"It was nothing too crazy. I've worked in field offices before but this was more involved which was a nice change of pace."

"I know it's a lot to join a team like this in the beginning but you're one of us now." She reached out and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. I tried to ignore the warmth of her touch as I reminded myself she was my coworker. Not wanting to linger too long in the moment I raised my shot glass to clink hers.

"Cheers to my first case!"

"Cheers!"

The lime was almost worse than the shot but the warmth that followed was welcome.

We started talking about the terrible tinder dates we'd been on recently when my phone pinged. It was Garcia with a text that read,

"It's rally time bitches!"


End file.
